


"I Know."

by acefluff



Series: I Know series [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Non-Linear Narrative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 00:19:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9853394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefluff/pseuds/acefluff
Summary: "And just like that all my fears were snuffed out, kind of like he’d blown out a candle that kept my insecurities alive by burning."An innocent love story, told backwards through the defining moments.(A short story written for one of my uni classes. I didn't plan to continue this but my friends asked me to so I have.)





	1. "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> For my copywriting class we were given twelve pictures of objects and had to incorporate five of them into a short story of 200 words or less in the style of our favourite author/genre. 
> 
> The pictures I chose were: a tree, a candle, keys, rope, scissors. 
> 
> The style I tried to write in was that of Stephen Chbosky's The Perks of Being a Wallflower. 
> 
> I didn't have any ideas of what to write for this story, but then my internet friends and their shipping inspired me to write what I imagine being in a relationship with Woozi would be like and this happened (as cringy as that is to admit).

Being with him is so natural that it’s like he has always been in my life. It’s strange. I know that there was a time before him and, of course, there will be a time after him because time is not stagnant and everything changes, and we can’t change that. 

But some things can be changed. Like how my heart was locked away so safely before but he managed to coax it open. And how I swore that I’d never become tied to anyone but he managed to knot himself into my life so tightly that I doubt anything could sever our bond. 

I’ve always dug my feet into the ground and refused to be moved by romantic gestures but all he did was smile and I was uprooted. And just like that all my fears were snuffed out, kind of like he’d blown out a candle that kept my insecurities alive by burning. 

When I told him these things he smiled in that embarrassed way he does and bowed his head so I couldn’t see it. 

And he said, “You know I don’t express myself well.”

And I said, “I know.”

And he said, “But I do love you.”


	2. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 1am and I have a restless kitten attacking my hand so apologies for any typos or grammar mistakes.

We didn’t forget, we just didn’t really care.

I don’t mean we didn’t care that it was our anniversary, we just didn’t care about making a big deal out of it. We joked and said it was because we were both too lazy, but really we just didn’t see the point. Anniversaries are about being together, so why does it matter if together is at a five star restaurant with overpriced meals or at home with three large pizzas in front of a laptop streaming a sitcom? 

So I put the Beatles on, because I really like the Beatles and, and we just talked and ate gummy bears, sitting side by side on my bed and leaning back against the wall where my year planner was stuck up with too much blu-tack.

When the only remaining evidence of the gummy bears was the packaging and the leftover pizza had been shoved into the fridge and we were both losing our voices from singing and talking, we lay back against my too-many pillows with my laptop perched on his knees. Even though I’d lost count of how many times I’d watched it, we started Friends from the first episode and queued up the rest of the season and next one as well. But we didn’t make it that far because it was late and we were sleepy from all the pizza. 

So I leaned my head against his shoulder and curled up next to him, and he put an arm around me and kissed my forehead. 

Then he said, “Tonight was perfect.”

And I said, “Yeah.”

And he said, “Thank you.”

And I asked, “What for?” 

And he said, “For sharing it with me.”

And then I fell asleep to the rise and fall of his chest and the steady beat of his heart.

It was definitely nothing extravagant, but that’s perfect because neither of us like that kind of thing anyway. Extravagant isn’t us and when us works so well why should we do anything that’s not us? 

Extravagant wouldn’t have been real. Extravagant would’ve been uncomfortable and awkward and far from the effortless simplicity we have.

But you know how sometimes you’re in a moment, and you feel real? You feel like you’ve always lived in that moment, and that it is perfect and infinite? 

Sitting together until after midnight and talking and just being together felt more real than anything else I’d experienced. And I never wanted it to end, because if that perfect moment could end then we could end too, and that thought terrified me more than anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because my friends asked me to continue with this I've decided that because I had no idea how to move the story forwards from the first chapter, I'd go backwards. So each chapter will be set before the previous one and will work back to tell the story of the characters and how they end up where they are in chapter 1.


	3. "Why not?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set a few months before the previous chapter.

One of my roommates was heading into the kitchen just as I was walking back to my bedroom with a cup of tea in each hand. She was still wearing last night’s dress and I was in my pyjamas and I never walk around the house in my pyjamas, but I was doing a lot of things I didn’t usually do recently. 

I didn’t usually stay on campus if I had long breaks between classes. I didn’t usually stay out and only get back to the house after 11pm. I didn’t usually spend so much time in the company of another person without. 

And although I never liked staying on campus when I could be at home and always tried to be in bed by 11pm and often made excuses to avoid social situations so I could be alone, I didn’t mind any of these things because they meant I could be with him. 

My roommate gestured towards the second cup and gave me a knowing look as she opened the fridge.

“He stayed over?”

I blushed because I knew what she was thinking, but it wasn’t true and the redness of my cheeks was betraying me. 

I didn’t trust my voice to come out clearly so I just nodded.

And she said, “He’s never stayed over before.”

She took a gulp of her fruit juice straight from the carton. 

And I said, “No, he hasn’t.”

And she had a stupid smirk on her face that made me uncomfortable when she asked, “So did you guys… you know?”

She raised her eyebrows in a suggestive way. I wanted to die. 

And I blushed even more and shook my head quickly, somehow not spilling any tea, and said, “No! No.”

I could tell by her expression that she was having trouble wrapping her head around the concept of having a guy spend the night in your bedroom and not doing anything along the lines of what she always did with guys she brought home. 

“Why not?”

I could have told her that I had no interest in sex, and neither did he, and that the very idea made my stomach drop in the bad kind of way and my legs feel like ice. I could have tried to explain that, even though the media says otherwise, a relationship can be meaningful and intimate without sex being a factor. I could have even said that we weren’t in the mood or we weren’t ready, but we would never be in the mood or be ready, and people who don’t relate just don’t understand. 

So I said, “We didn’t want to.”

And then I continued walking back to my bedroom before she could ask anything else, but I heard her splutter and cough on her juice. 

I knew she’d start prying again later.


	4. "You, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set the night before the previous chapter.

It was completely coincidental that all my roommates had plans to go out, leaving us with the house to ourselves. We usually sat outside at the picnic table or in my bedroom when he came over, because the lounge was always occupied and we preferred being alone, but this gave us the opportunity to sit in the lounge and watch a movie on the flatscreen TV instead of on my laptop for a change. 

We were just supposed to have dinner and watch a movie together and then he was going to leave.

But cooking took longer than it should’ve and then tidying up took a while and by the time the movie was over it was after midnight and we were both falling asleep on the couch. So he turned off the TV and took the empty popcorn bowl to the kitchen while I made sure the doors were locked, the windows closed and the lights turned off. 

And then we went to my bedroom. 

He reclined on my bed while I opened the windows so it wouldn’t get too stuffy before drawing the curtain. 

He went into the bathroom while I changed into my pyjamas and then we switched.

Even though I’d learned long ago that I didn’t ever need to worry when I was with him I was surprised and relieved that I wasn’t nervous now. Whenever I’d thought about this, because it was kind of inevitable, I’d imagined that I would be uncomfortable and everything would be awkward. But it wasn’t. 

Standing in my little bathroom, brushing my teeth and knowing that he was probably sitting on my bed in his t-shirt and boxers because he didn’t bring pyjamas, scrolling through his phone while he waited for me, felt… natural. It felt like we’d had this routine forever. 

Maybe it was because we’d fallen asleep together when we should’ve been studying or completing assignments or watching movies more times than I could remember. Maybe it was because I knew he didn’t expect me to give him something I couldn’t and he knew that I didn’t expect it either. Or maybe it was just because in the time we’d known each other, first as friends and then as something else, we had become comfortable enough around each other that this particular kind of being together wasn’t intimidating. 

It wasn’t scary to crawl into bed and have him pull the blankets over us. It wasn’t uncomfortable to have his arm wrapped around me. It wasn’t annoying to feel his chest rise and fall with each breath as he slowly fell asleep. Neither of us had ever been enthusiastic about physical affection, and in the beginning we’d been shy and overly cautious with it, but this felt right.

And I wondered (not for the first time) how it was possible that things I always hated were suddenly not only tolerable but even enjoyable just because it was with him. 

I was so tired and comfortable that I wouldn’t have been able to open my eyes if I’d tried and just before I gave in to the exhaustion I felt his lips press so gently against my forehead that I almost thought I’d dreamed it until I heard him whisper, “Sweet dreams.”

And I mumbled back as best I could, “You, too.”


	5. "You okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, set before the previous chapter.

It was a Saturday and it was raining. 

We’d both had a busy week, so we hadn’t seen each other in a few days, and that combined with the anxiety I’d been feeling while not having him to lean on had left me completely drained. But now neither of us had assignments to finish, or reading to do, or tests to study for so even though it was winter we’d planned to cycle down to the beach and spend the morning exploring the rock pools, taking pictures, and eating ice cream for breakfast. 

But then the rain started and we didn’t want to walk on the beach in the downpour so we marked that plan as ‘try again later’ and decided that he’d come over if the rain stopped. 

It didn’t. 

It was my favourite kind of weather where the rain falls continually but inconsistently and turns all the potholes in the roads into little ponds and gets the frogs singing and I wanted to share it with him.

But to share it with him he’d have to cycle to the house in the pouring rain and I didn’t want him to get sick so I insisted that he stayed at home. We’d see each other the next day instead, even though I felt like I couldn’t wait that long. 

He didn’t argue.

He just cycled in the rain anyway and called me from outside to open the security gate for him. 

I wanted to be angry that he hadn’t listened to me. I wanted to scold him for putting his health at risk. I wanted to keep that gate locked and yell for him to go home and get warm. 

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. 

How could I do any of those things when he’d wanted to see me so badly that he didn’t care if he caught a cold or that he’d be soaked through and freezing cold?

So I opened the gate and ran outside. And I threw my arms around him. And I didn’t care that we were both standing in the rain now because he was here and I realised how much I’d missed him and how much I needed him and how tough it had been getting through the week without him. It felt like I had taken off my sneakers after a long day and only then realised how uncomfortable they had been to wear for so long. Having him with me again was all I needed to relax and I felt the anxiety that had been nagging at me for days slowly melt away. 

I whispered, “I missed you and I want to keep hugging you, but I think we should get out of this rain.”

And he laughed, his breath warm against my neck, and said, “I can’t feel my toes.”

And I laughed loudly and took his hand and said, “Come on.”

He’d barely leaned his bicycle against the wall under the patio roof before I was dragging him inside and shoving him into my bathroom, not even letting him put down his helmet or the backpack containing a change of clothes. 

He looked at me with obvious confusion, so as I slid the door closed I said, “Shower, you need to warm up.”

When I heard the water start I changed into dry clothes and went to boil the kettle and check that the lounge was unoccupied. It was, so I turned on the tv and found re-runs of The Big Bang Theory and went to fetch my fluffy blanket. 

I made coffee for him and tea for myself and searched through my cupboard to find the biscuits I’d bought. I was standing on my toes to move a packet of rice noodles out of the way when I felt arms wrap around my waist and lift me up so I could reach. I giggled and grabbed the biscuits from the back of the cupboard, and he lowered me down and then stood on his toes to kiss the top of my head.

When we were curled up on the couch next to each other and the empty mugs were on the coffee table I didn’t even notice that I was crying until he wiped the tears from my cheeks. I didn’t want to be crying and I’d thought I was okay, but after holding back all week I guess I finally felt safe enough to stop fighting to keep everything in. 

And he pulled me closer out of concern and asked, “You okay?”

And I nodded and said, “Yes. I will be.”


	6. "I'm here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set the Monday before the previous chapter.

It had been a long Monday and I was tired. Jihoon was sprawled out on my bed, I was sitting at my desk. Everything was normal. Until my phone vibrated and lit up with a text from the last person I’d wanted to hear from.

Jihoon and I had never tried to hide our relationship, but we didn’t make a big deal out of it either. We were the ones in it, so why did everyone else need to know? Neither of us bothered with putting it on Facebook because our relationship was ours and we liked it that way. I had a selfie of the two of us as my profile picture, but other than that there where only a few hints and no concrete evidence that we were anything more than best friends.

But I forgot that my brother told him almost everything and even if he hadn’t he would’ve found out eventually, one way or another.

I glanced at the illuminated phone screen.

_“U have never said anything about a boyfriend but ur brother says ur dating the chinese guy in your profile pic. i dont-“_

And then it was cut off because that was all the message preview showed.

I felt like all the heat had drained from my body. I felt like if I stood up my legs would fall out from underneath me. I felt like my stomach had fallen into the ocean and been swallowed by a whale or something. And I felt angry.

I breathed deeply, my breath shaky and my hands even shakier.

Jihoon noticed. He always noticed if I wasn’t okay.

He put down the textbook he was reading from and moved to sit at the edge of my bed.

He put a gentle hand on my shoulder and asked, “What happened? Is everything okay?”

I lifted my hands to cover my mouth and shook my head and mumbled, “No.”

“Come here…” 

  
He moved my hands away from my face to take them in his and slowly pulled me off the desk chair and onto the bed so I was siting next to him. I leaned my head on his shoulder and tried not to let the rage that was building inside me burst out.

“Do you want to tell me?” he asked quietly.

I didn’t reply. I pulled away from him to reach for my phone, lying abandoned on my desk. I picked it up and handed it to him and went back to leaning against him, this time with my eyes closed.

I felt him take a deep breath and mumble, “Oh…”

And I whispered, “Yeah.”

And he asked, “Are you going to open it?”

Usually when my father texted me I’d ignore it until I’d had a chance to talk to my mum about it because I hated dealing with him by myself. I always felt like I needed her to reassure me that it would be okay and that she understood how hard it was to talk to him. But I was tired of the anxiety brought about by an unopened message from him. And I was tired of letting him have the power to make me feel that way.

So I took a deep breath to steady myself and said, “I think so.”

Jihoon handed the phone back to me. I unlocked it and opened the messaging app. My thumb hovered over the offending text.

And I froze.

But Jihoon pulled me closer and took my other hand in his and gently brushed his thumb over my knuckles.

“I’m here.”

And I knew I’d be okay.

So I opened the message before I could talk myself out of it and read it quickly.

_“U have never said anything about a boyfriend but ur brother says ur dating the chinese guy in your profile pic. i dont understand why you had to hide this from me. as ur father i believe i have the right to know these things.”_

Another message came through just as I finished reading. It was a picture with the caption _“show him.”_

It was one of those 'rules for dating my daughter' memes. 

And before I could stop myself the words were pouring out and I didn’t think I’d ever typed that quickly.

_“1 — Jihoon is Korean, not Chinese. There is a difference. 2 — I was not hiding this from you. If I was, my profile picture would be different. 3 — you don’t ‘have the right to know these things.’ Whether I have a boyfriend or not is none of your business. 4 — that picture has never been funny and it is definitely not funny now. I do not appreciate it. I don’t need your approval or appreciate the fact that you think I’d be with someone who wasn’t a good person.”_

I was shaking.

I reread the message I’d typed and shook my head. “I can’t send this.”

I started backspacing.

Jihoon pulled the phone out of my hands and said, “Yes, you can. You always sugar-coat things when you talk to your father and that never works. You’re strong. Show him that.”

I knew he was right, but that didn’t make it easier. My messages to my father were always euphemistic and full of little white lies to try and keep him happy, but that never worked because afterwards he wasn’t happy and he’d ignored what I was trying to tell him in the message. And we’d be back to square one with nothing changed.

I knew that I had to start being straightforward, stop putting things nicely to spare his feelings. He never took mine into account anyway.

I could do this.

Jihoon passed the phone back to me. I retyped the words I’d erased and paused.

I felt soft lips against my forehead.

And I pushed send.

And then I turned off my phone and put it back on the desk.

Jihoon wrapped his arms around me from behind and said, “You can’t leave your phone off forever.”

I cracked a smile and said, “I know. It’s just for a while. I don’t want to think about this now.”

And I felt okay.

I knew that I’d feel on edge for a while and I’d get anxious every time I got a notification but right then at that moment I knew I’d get through it, and I would be okay, because I had Jihoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I struggled with this chapter a lot. 
> 
> Also, this is the first time I used Jihoon's name and not just male pronouns because if I hadn't it would've been quite confusing.


	7. "Me, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while because I haven't been great. I've got lots of reading to do for classes but I'll try to update again soon.

The exchange students’ accommodation he’d been placed in was strict about their visiting hours, so we played it safe by always going to where I stayed if we wanted to spend time together away from campus. And we did that a lot. All my housemates knew him and knew he was my friend and that was all because they’d asked me if I was sure we weren’t ‘together’ because he was there every day. 

Over the months that this had been happening we had settled into a routine of sorts. We were comfortable with how things were, but now things were different. I was determined that nothing should change but considering the drastic turn our relationship had taken that was an impossible wish because something had to change, surely?

Admitting to each other that we cared too much to be ‘just friends’ was the catalyst. What the chemical reaction was going to be, I had no idea, but I was nervous because although I’d agreed to this change I wasn’t sure I was ready for any others.

But my limited knowledge of science and relationships told me that I didn’t necessarily get to decide whether something would change or what that something was.

So I braced myself for how different today would be because it was the first time he was visiting since the catalyst so I was sure that something would have changed. I worried that being alone together would be awkward, that it we would be uncomfortable, that it wouldn’t be as easy as it always had been.

And things were different. 

He held my hand as we walked into the house after putting our bicycles away.

He smiled at me more than usual from across the wooden picnic table while we ate lunch. 

He sat closer to me than before on the couch while we put off our work by watching Masterchef. 

And he spent a little longer packing up his stuff and saying goodbye when he had to leave. 

Everything was different and strange and that was and was not our afternoon routine but it still felt so right and natural and us. 

It was a warm afternoon and we were both feeling lazy and tired so I rested my head on his shoulder while the chefs on TV plated up with shaking hands. 

He reached out and slowly took my hand in his again and watched as he threaded our fingers together. 

Then he looked at me and said, “I like this.”

And I said, “Me, too.”

And I knew that I had worried for nothing.


	8. "It's okay."

It had been more than a week that I hadn’t seen him. 

And I missed him. 

I missed him so much that I had a very real ache in my chest.

But it was over, and I was sure that nothing would be able to repair what we’d had and what I’d managed to destroy. What we’d had had worked and I had treasured it more than anything because I’d never had that kind of friendship with anyone, ever, because I’d never felt that comfortable with anyone except him. 

And I’d ruined it because I freaked out when he told me that he wanted us to be more than what we were. 

It was late and we were texting when he said it. At first I thought he was kidding. But he wasn’t. And I got scared. 

So I replied with, “I’m sorry,” and turned my phone off and stayed up all night, tossing and turning and occasionally crying, because I knew I’d just lost the best friend I’d ever had. 

I spent the next week avoiding him. I took a different route to get to campus so I didn’t pass where he stayed. I took detours when I left campus just in case he was waiting for me outside the building I’d had class in. I didn’t open or read any of his messages or answer his calls. 

And I felt terrible. 

I owed him an explanation, I knew that, but from experience I knew that people didn’t understand. And even if he did understand we could never be friends again like before now that he’d admitted how he felt. And even if I admitted that the feeling was mutual it would never work because it was me. 

When nearly two weeks had passed someone knocked on my bedroom door and I reluctantly got off my bed to answer it and found him standing there. One of my housemates must have let him in. We stood in silence, just looking at each other, waiting for the other to speak but neither of us waiting to go first. 

So I tried to close the door but he’s stronger than he looks and managed to hold it open. 

And I said, “Please… just go.”

And he said, “No. We have to talk about this.”

I’d never seen him look so determined and I knew I wasn’t physically strong enough to push the door closed while he held it open so I let him in. 

I went back to my bed and he closed the door before sitting down at my desk, turning the chair so he could face me. 

And I noticed just how sad he looked. 

I didn’t say anything because I knew I’d start crying if I did. 

Eventually he asked, “Why?”

And it took all my strength not to cry when I said, “Because I can’t give you what you want and you deserve someone who will give you everything.”

I didn’t want to elaborate, because people never understood. They told me that I was wrong, that what I felt was unnatural, that I couldn’t know this without having experienced that. And even though I knew he was different and I’d shared so much with him already, I didn’t want to risk sharing this and finding him to be one of those people who didn’t believe me. Because if he didn’t accept this part of me I didn’t think I’d ever be okay with who I was again. 

Speaking softly he asked, “How do you know what I want? How do you know that you’re not everything I want and more?”

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs. He didn’t look angry like I expected him to, he just looked hurt. 

When I didn’t say anything he said, “Maybe we want the same things. Maybe all that I want is all you, as you are.”

I couldn’t hold my tears back anymore. I had too many emotions bubbling up inside that wanted to burst out, like those baking soda volcanoes kids make for science class projects. The despair I’d kept inside for nearly a fortnight had just had a drop of hope added to it. The drop of hope was tiny, but I tried not to let myself feel it because if I acknowledged it I knew the let down would be far worse than if I ignored it. But the combination of emotions was overwhelming no matter how much I tried to stifle that drop of hope.

So through my tears I said, “I can never be enough.”

“That’s not true—”

“I’m asexual.”

Silence. 

“What does that mean?”

I sighed and said, “It means that when I see a beautiful person it feels the same as when I look at a beautiful painting. It means that I have no desire to have sex. And it means that most things that are supposed to be sexy just make me uncomfortable.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

“Because most of the people I have told laughed at me or said that it’s not a real sexuality. And if I’d heard that from you… it would’ve hurt more than all the other times put together.”

He was crying too when he asked, “This is really how you feel?”

I nodded and pressed my face against my knees so I didn’t have to look at him. 

“It’s not just me?”

I slowly lifted my head to look at him, confused. He looked hopeful. 

And I asked, “Are you…?”

“I think I might be.”

He stood from my desk chair and sat down next to me and shifted closer when I didn’t move away. He moved my hand from where I still had my arms wrapped around my legs so he could hold it. 

He looked down at our linked hands and said, “You said that I should be with someone who will give me everything. But I don’t want everything by that definition. I want whatever your everything is. It could be just letting me hold your hand. If that’s all you want to give then that’s more than I could ever ask for.”

I sighed and said, “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t. I promise. But if this doesn’t feel right we can pretend that it never happened.”

“Really?”

“Most definitely.” 

“Okay.”

We sat in silence for a while, not sure what to do, until I rested my head on his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him and said, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For not telling you. And then getting scared. And ignoring you for nearly two weeks.”

He chuckled and hugged me tightly and said, “It’s okay.”

The internal emotional eruption had wiped out the sadness I’d felt and left that drop of hope behind to start spreading slowly. A drop of happiness fell into the strengthening hope, but this time the combination of feelings wasn’t overwhelming. It was comfortable and warm and I knew that he was right and we would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have cried a few times while writing this.


	9. "You sure?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went home last weekend and forgot to take my laptop charger with me. And because I couldn't do my assignments over the weekend I had to finish them when I got back and then I was just lazy.
> 
> So know you know why this update took so long.

I had friends (some who knew me so well it was scary), but because they were online friends I never saw them in person. And the friends that I did see in person I very seldom talked to at other times. So I didn’t have friends in the way that most people had friends. 

But the friendship I had with him was nothing like any of the others I had. 

We understood each other without having to try. If I was stressed he’d arrive at the house with my favourite chocolate and offer to help me even if he couldn’t. If he was homesick I’d drag him down to the beachfront to get ice cream and sit on the pier and talk until he felt better.

In the beginning it was awkward and we didn’t talk much unless it was about classwork, and I hardly saw him outside of class until he asked for help with studying for a test. After that we started staying behind after class to talk and realised that we were very alike in some ways. 

And after that we always tracked each other down on campus. We spent afternoons together, either studying or me helping him improve his English and him trying to teach me basic Korean. 

We texted a lot. 

He started coming over because it was more comfortable to sit in the lounge and work there than it was to sit in the library. Sometimes we didn’t have any schoolwork to get done but we’d hang out anyway. Sometimes we spent afternoons in the same room with our laptops and headphones on, not talking much but enjoying not being totally alone because we understood that we both got exhausted in social situations and just needed the quiet. 

It took me a while to get used to having a friend like him, but as months passed and we spent more time together the more it felt natural and the more I wanted him around when he wasn’t. 

Of course my housemates had to make things weird. 

When there were barbecues or movie nights at the house they insisted that I invite him and would spend the evening subtly trying to get us to sit as close to each other as possible. They’d beg me to invite him if we were going out for dinner and then made sure that we were squashed next to each other in the booth. 

And then one afternoon he fell asleep with his head on my lap while I played with his hair. He’d stayed up all night studying for a test so I wasn’t surprised when he lay down and passed out. Neither of us were very physically affectionate, but maybe that was why we’d gotten comfortable enough with each other to do things like that sometimes. 

It was quiet except for the TV and his soft snores and he looked so cute sleeping peacefully and I felt content knowing that he was resting. 

The moment was ruined when my hyper housemate got home, and, even though Jihoon was obviously sleeping, in her regular too-loud voice said, “Aw, did he fall asleep like that? You two are the cutest couple, I’m so jealous! I wish I had a boyfriend but I keep friend-zoning all the guys I know because it would just be so weird to date them because I’ve known them since, like, first year. And when I go out only fuckboys are ever interested and I’m, like, _no thanks _!”__

He must’ve been really tired because he didn’t even stir despite how noisy my housemate was being. 

When she got distracted by her phone long enough to stop talking I said, “We’re not a couple.”

She looked up with a blank expression a few seconds later, like she hadn’t realised I was talking. 

“Did you say something?”

“We’re just friends.”

“You sure?”

I hadn’t seen her look that confused since I’d tried to explain the greenhouse effect to her. 

It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question when I said, “…Yes?”

“But there’s such a vibe between you guys!”

I started to feel really glad that Jihoon was such a deep sleeper because this was embarrassing. 

“We’re just friends, honestly. It would be weird if we got together.”

She gave me a smirk and said, “Friends for now! I can sense these things, you’ll get together sooner or later.”

A small part of me wanted her to be right, but a bigger part of me knew it could never happen and didn’t want to risk losing my best friend. So I didn’t say anything. 

And I didn’t say anything to Jihoon when he woke up and I was never going to. Because things were good and I was happy and I didn’t want anything to change what we had.


	10. "Excuse me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set the year before all the events of previous chapters.

I didn’t really speak to people in my classes. It’s not that I wanted to be without friends in my classes, but because of how bad I am at holding a conversation and how shy and awkward I am with new people it just ended up that way. It was easier to keep to myself than pretend to be social just so that I would have someone to talk to. I went through my whole first year only talking to the people I’d been forced into an orientation group with and only when necessary and I was sure the same thing would happen in my second year. 

It didn’t. 

I was almost late to the first contemporary culture lecture at the start of my second year. 

I was still holding my bicycle helmet and had my earphones in when I sat down in the first available seat. I put my cellphone down on the desk and pushed the home button to check the time, lighting up the screen and displaying the album art of the song I was listening to. I noticed the guy sitting at the next desk glance over and he smiled when he saw the song title. Neither of us said anything. 

Class started and the class list was passed around so everyone could sign that they attended the lecture. The guy who looked over when I sat down passed the list to me. He smiled shyly and his eyes crinkled up cutely. I smiled back. 

When class finished I shoved my course reader into my backpack and stood up to leave. 

I was about to put my earphones back in when the guy from before quietly said, “Excuse me?”

I looked up from my phone. “Yeah?”

He looked embarrassed and very shyly, in accented English, asked, “Can you help me?

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I have a class now. Building 10. Do you know it?”

I nodded and asked, “Did you just start here?”

He smiled. “Yes, I’m here from Korea with an ex…change program…?”

“Oh, that’s so cool! I’d love to do an exchange program.” 

He furrowed his brow at my slightly different pronunciation and said, “Sorry, my English isn’t good.”

“Your English is better than some people who’ve been speaking it their whole lives. Trust me.”

He brightened at that immediately. His lips curled up before breaking out into a full smile, showing his teeth and crinkling up his eyes. 

“감사— I mean… thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll take you to building 10, I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

The conversation we had walking from building 6 to building 10 was the easiest conversation I’d ever had with someone I’d just met. Every now and then he’d forget a word in English or I wouldn’t know how to explain something but that didn’t even matter because we managed to figure out what we were trying to say.

We got to building 10 too soon. 

And for the first time I wanted to keep talking to someone I’d just met. 

 

The next week I arrived to the class before him. I was listening to music and not paying much attention to my surroundings when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to find him standing there, smiling shyly. 

He pointed to the empty seat next to me and asked, “Okay if I sit?”

“Of course!”

He sat next to me every week after that. 

The week before the class test he asked if he could study with me. And then we got our assignment and agreed to meet up and work on that together. 

And suddenly we had a weekly ritual of meeting at the campus cafe for coffee before the class started. And then we were texting constantly and going to the cinema and getting ice cream and having study days.

And it was like we had been friends for years instead of weeks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter...
> 
> Set years after everything that happened in the previous chapters.

I had spent most of my life being scared or worrying about something, and it was only when we’d been together for years that I realised I had no reason to anymore. 

In the beginning I worried about everything.

I worried that he’d be angry if I didn’t text him good night because I was exhausted and fell asleep before I could. 

I worried that he’d laugh at my silly quirks as he came to know them. I worried that my brother would make rude comments about him. 

And later I worried about what would happen after we graduated and he went home. I worried about leaving my home and getting a job in South Korea and being so far away from my mum and meeting his family and whether his friends would like me.

Most of these worries I kept to myself because I didn’t want to frustrate him. But the ones I did share, or that he figured out, he always managed to make seem insignificant. 

And it was all for nothing anyway. I didn’t ever need to worry with him because with him everything was okay because even if it wasn’t he’d make it be okay.

When I fell asleep without texting him I’d wake up to a good morning and an understanding that I’d needed to sleep. 

When he learned the weird habits I was self conscious about he told me they were cute and never teased me about them, but instead told me about his. 

When my brother made insensitive remarks, he had a witty reply that left my smart-ass brother completely speechless, and me prouder than I’d ever been. 

When we graduated, I went with him to South Korea. And I got a job and we found a nice apartment within walking distance and we video called my mum once a week and his mother taught me her family recipes and his friends showed me old embarrassing photographs that made Jihoon blush. 

Of course people started asking about children so we showed them pictures of our cats and said we were planning on getting a dog. And when people asked about a wedding we showed them our rings and said there were more important things to save the money for than a big expensive wedding. 

We got strange looks, invasive questions and, occasionally, understanding but we learned to ignore the criticism because it was our life and why should we care what other people thought? As long as we had each other, everything would be okay. 

And I didn’t worry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I still feel a bit embarrassed about writing this whole thing and sharing it with the internet but oh well.
> 
> Might write some more in the future. Might not. We shall see.


End file.
